


love the way you shiver (dig into my shoulder blades)

by blake0tyler



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Hotel Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25021651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake0tyler/pseuds/blake0tyler
Summary: “A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t be sitting alone this late at night, don’t you think?”//Strangers in a bar. Kind of.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 23
Kudos: 373





	love the way you shiver (dig into my shoulder blades)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heath17_KO5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heath17_KO5/gifts).



> A/N:
> 
> Happy birthday, Heath17_KO5! I know you wanted something with tension and smut. This is not the best thing I've ever written, but I hope it'll do. Thanks for being in my life :)
> 
> (title from "Drew Barrymore" by Bryce Vine)

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice in her ear is low, husky, a little too bold in tone to address a stranger at a bar with, and Christen’s breath catches at the back of her throat. The woman is—

Well, she’s stunning.

She’s got smooth and silky brown hair that looks soft in the most inviting way. Tan skin, lean body. Gorgeous eyes that seem to pin Christen down in her stool, that seem to heat her up from the inside out, despite the fact that she hates being flirted with at a bar, that she hates being treated as if she’s—

“A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t be sitting alone this late at night, don’t you think?”

The annoyance rushes through her, hot and sudden.

_ Of course. _

With a sigh, Christen twirls the straw in her mojito and tears her gaze away. She knows she sounds snappy, when she says, “Is that really the best you can come up with? A sleazy pick-up line?”

The corner of the woman’s mouth curls up. “Well,” she says slowly. “If it takes a sleazy pick-up line to get you to speak to me, I’ll gladly have you dislike me for a second.”

Christen scoffs. “Only for a second?”

The woman smiles even wider. “I’m sure I can change your mind soon enough.”

It’s so confident that it’s cocky. For a moment, Christen feels taken aback, feels unbalanced and unsure of herself. The woman holds her gaze, and  _ fuck,  _ if she wasn’t so hot, it would be so much easier to—

“That is, unless this seat is taken,” the woman continues, a tad softer than before. Nicer, almost like she’s testing the waters. Her eyes stay on Christen’s face with something patient and considerate, like she knows she’s pushing the line a bit and will only accept Christen’s full consent.

Christen takes a sharp breath. “It’s free.”

The woman smirks, takes the seat. “In that case… I’m Tobin.”

“Christen.” When their hands touch, Christen has to bite down on her lip to ignore the tension between them. It's strange; the way she feels drawn to the woman, despite the fact that she’s also slightly annoyed.

The bar is almost empty around them; it’s late, later than Christen usually stays out, and she doesn’t really know why she’s even here—except, maybe, for the fact that her night just got a little bit more interesting just now.

“ _ Christen _ …” Tobin echoes back at her, testing the name. “Such a pretty name.”

“I swear, if you say something about how it’ll sound even prettier when you—”

“Wouldn’t dare to,” Tobin says, interrupting her. “Though, it’s certainly a hypothesis I wouldn’t mind testing.”

The blush that creeps up Christen’s cheeks is hot and unexpected. She takes a breath, blaming it on the rum. She’s on her second, has been at the hotel for a while already. Still, the way the heat rushes through her body at Tobin’s expression can’t be blamed on the alcohol alone.

“God,” she mumbles, instead, trying to keep some semblance of control. “Does that ever really work?”

“What?”

Christen narrows her eyes. “Girls. Do they ever fall for that?”

For the first time, Tobin is quiet for a second. She considers her words. There’s something teasing in the way she looks Christen up and down as she says, “Some do…”

Her stomach flips hard. “For some reason, I find that hard to believe.”

Tobin shifts forward just a little bit, just enough to make the rest of the bar blur as she pulls Christen’s complete focus towards her. “Guess I have to try harder, then.”

Her voice is low and sweet, every single word falling from her mouth like honey; almost begging Christen to come closer. She feels tense as she realizes with sudden force that she  _ wants  _ to. Wants to come closer. Wants to drag the hem of her dress a little bit higher on purpose; just to see what Tobin will do about it.

It’s ridiculous.

She doesn’t even know this woman.

She doesn’t even know what is happening.

They’ve barely talked for five minutes, but already, Christen is on the edge of her seat, drawn in and shaky; feeling hot and confused and flattered, all at the same time.

She twirls the straw in her glass again, then turns to look at Tobin. “How about you get me another one of these and I’ll let you try?”

:::

This is what she learns—

Tobin, apparently, has reason enough to act as cocky as she does; she plays very high profile soccer, owns her own clothing brand, is an artist on the side. She is flirty and confident, asks a couple of questions that are borderline inappropriate, and has an easy way of talking that makes Christen equal parts frustrated and turned on.

This is what she learns—

In the low light of the bar, Tobin’s eyes look like burned sugar; deep and golden, flaming hot as they drag up and down Christen’s body; across the low cut of her dress, to her fingers playing with the plastic straw in the now-empty glass of her third cocktail, down to her legs. There’s so much purpose in that look that Christen falters as she tries to talk about herself; loses her breath in the middle of telling Tobin about growing up in California; has to bite down on her bottom lip to refrain from moaning when Tobin’s hand brushes against her bare thigh, first accidentally, and then intentionally.

This is what she learns—

Tobin is a  _ fucking  _ good kisser.

It doesn’t take Christen much to get her there. Just a comment that’s slightly too suggestive—something about whether Tobin is actually staying at this hotel or just pretending to so that she can hit on unsuspecting girls at the bar. The next thing she knows, she’s being pulled into an elevator, and Tobin kisses her hard and fast.

This is what she learns—

The back of Tobin’s hotel room door is cold, and Christen  _ hates  _ being picked-up like this at bars, but  _ fuck _ , she wants it so bad.

So maybe, just for one night, she’ll let herself have it.

:::

“This dress—” Tobin breathes out, kissing her way down Christen’s neck, emphasis with every word. “Should be… illegal.”

“Oh?” Christen’s voice is breathy and hoarse, but she forces herself to keep talking, even as Tobin’s tongue is licking hotly across her collarbone. “Why is that?”

“Because…” Tobin’s voice sounds like she isn’t entirely unaffected either. “ _ Fuck _ —you’re… you’re just so hot.”

It’s not exactly elegant, but it does the trick; Christen feels the words burn right between her legs.

She doesn’t think a stranger has gotten her this wet this quickly  _ ever _ .

“Yeah?” She bucks forward, tense and desperate, sliding a hand up Tobin’s neck, pulling her in as she leans more of her weight back against the door. “What are you going to do about it?”

Tobin groans. “ _ Chris. _ ”

And that—

Well, that changes things.

Christen charges forward, pushes Tobin onto the bed and climbs right into her lap.

This is not typically like her.

She’s usually not forward and needy; she doesn’t even really sleep with strangers. But the look in Tobin’s eyes, the way her hands are all that Christen wants, the way the nickname had just fallen off her lips—

Christen kisses her, swallows the sound that Tobin makes at the back of her throat, and grinds her hips down hard.

Tobin doesn’t need longer than a moment to respond, all eager hands pulling at the fabric of Christen’s dress, trying to find the spaces where she can get her fingers on Christen’s bare skin, pulling and tearing it out of the way as she tries to pull Christen’s complete weight on top of her at the same time.

Her fingers get caught on the zip at the back of the dress just as Christen bites down on Tobin’s bottom lip. Tobin whimpers against her lips, a hot and desperate sound, seemingly unable to focus enough to pull it down. 

Christen smirks. “Need help, babe?”

Tobin’s eyes go wide, and for the first time all night, Christen feels like she’s in control. She grins. “Oh, can’t I call you that? Does it make you blush?” Tobin’s cheeks redden. “For someone so forward, you’re suddenly—”

Tobin kisses her hard, mid-sentence, almost as if she’s trying to assert her claim on the control again.

And then, Tobin’s fingers are under the dress, not bothering to try and get it off anymore, just skimming her hand carelessly up the inside of Christen’s leg, right to where she’s slick and wet and—

“God,” Tobin husks out. “Fuck, you’re wet…”

It’s dirty, the way she says it, and Christen burns with it, wants nothing more than to rock down harder, against Tobin’s hand, trying to get Tobin to pull her soaked panties aside and slip her fingers in—

“Let me ask again,” she breathes out, forcing all of her focus into getting the words out. “What are you going to do about it?”

It’s a gamble, but Tobin responds exactly like Christen wants her to. Hands are on her waist just like that, and before she can really do anything, Christen is being flipped over onto her back, sprawled out in the middle of the bed.

Things are moving much more quickly than she’d expected, and for a second, Christen feels herself blush at how uninhibited she feels, how risky this is, how  _ inappropriate— _

But—

Tobin’s fingers drag her panties down her legs in a way that’s almost possessive, a look in her eyes that makes it seem like she can’t wait to get what she wants, and it makes Christen even wetter.

“I’m going to make you come,” Tobin says. “I don’t need your dress off to fuck you.”

Christen whimpers.

Tobin smirks. “But I’ll let you strip for me after I’ve licked you clean.”

And that—

Christen barely has time to process the words before Tobin’s mouth is between her legs, hands pushing the dress up to her waist, fingers clenched tightly in the fabric. The first touch of Tobin’s tongue to her clit, makes her scream.

“ _ Fuck! _ ”

Tobin smiles, tongues at Christen’s clit again, and that’s the last thing Christen registers before she begins to lose her mind.

It’s the hottest thing in the world; being eaten out like this, by this stranger she doesn’t even really like that much, who seems to know  _ exactly  _ what she’s doing all the same. Christen skyrockets so hard towards her orgasm that she can barely believe it. Tobin’s mouth is hot and wet and hungry—and Christen shakes with every lick.

“God,” Tobin whispers. “You’re—you taste delicious.”

Christen trembles. She fists her hand hard into Tobin’s hair, pushes her hips forward. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…”

There’s something  _ insanely  _ arousing about how anonymous this is; about how Tobin seems to have her figured out in only a matter of hours.

Tobin’s thumbs press into Christen’s hips, and just like that, Christen is coming.

“ _ Fuck…  _ Tobin! Fuck, fuck—”

When she opens her eyes, Tobin is smirking.

Christen falls back into the pillows. “God, you don’t—”

“Take your dress off.”

Christen’s eyes go wide. “—don’t hold back, do you?”

The look in Tobin’s eyes makes her feel naked, despite the fact that the fabric is still more or less covering her body.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tobin whispers, then. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. If I only get to have you tonight, I’m not wasting any time.”

The words alone are enough for a shudder to run through Christen’s body, almost like a tiny wave. She sits up, yanks the zip of her dress down and pulls it up over her head as smoothly as she can, revealing the red bra in a bit of a haste.

It doesn’t matter, though; the reaction is exactly the same. Tobin gasps, runs a hand through her hair, says, “ _ Christen… _ ” in a way that shouldn’t make Christen tense all over again, but does.

She licks at her bottom lip, then unhooks the clasp. “I know you like this on me, but it was a matching set and since you’ve already chosen to take my panties off…”

The bra falls away and Tobin groans.

Christen is completely naked and Tobin hasn’t even taken her shoes off, and it’s—

It’s exhilarating; the rush of power she feels at the way she can now change the situation into whatever she wants.

She decides to start by yanking Tobin forward by the belt loops of her jeans. “Off.”

It’s easy enough to pull Tobin’s shirt out of her jeans, to kiss up the exposed skin of her stomach—the hard lines of those abs—and to flick the button of her jeans open, dragging the zipper down.

But just before her hand slides between Tobin’s legs, Tobin grabs her wrist.

“Not so fast.”

“I want to—”

“Let me look at you first.”

Tobin takes a step back, drinks Christen’s naked body in like a painter looking at their empty canvas; as if she’s imagining exactly where to touch, where to mark—

With Christen’s blush hot and burning on her cheeks, Tobin finally pulls her t-shirt up and over her head, revealing a simple black bra. She kicks her shoes off, drags her jeans down, then pushes Christen back onto the bed with a finger against her sternum.

Her fingernails drag up Christen’s side until Tobin is cupping her breasts, kissing Christen hotly at the same time. It’s so overwhelming that Christen feels dizzy; how Tobin plays with her nipples, the needy way her mouth moves against Christen’s own; the heat, the heat, the heat.

“Please,” she whispers against Tobin’s lips. “Please—”

She can’t even formulate the thought, can only arch into Tobin’s hands, desperate for more.

But Tobin knows. She smirks, licks hard at Christen’s nipple, then sucks it into her mouth.

“ _ Yes—yes… _ ” Christen presses her face against her forearm to keep from moaning too loudly, but Tobin doesn’t seem to accept that; she takes Christen’s hand way from her face and holds it tightly—and then, just like that, she brings their clasped hands between them and slides Christen’s fingers right into her underwear.

“Oh god, oh god. Fuck, you’re—” Christen can’t stop swearing. “You feel so good.”

Tobin’s hips buck as Christen touches her. The pleasure of it—of feeling how wet Tobin is for her, just from kissing and making Christen come—is almost overwhelming.

She circles the pad of her middle finger around Tobin’s clit and Tobin groans. “Christen—”

“Hm?”

Tobin huffs, and then, she breathes out, “You’re going to make me come way too fucking quickly if you keep that up.”

Christen doubles her efforts, moans into Tobin’s neck when she starts to feel the tremble in Tobin’s body.

But then—still somehow in charge—Tobin yanks Christen’s wrist back out of her underwear and pins it to the mattress, swallowing Christen’s sigh of disappointment in a hard kiss.

She pushes until she’s between Christen’s legs; until she’s got Christen naked and spread. She can feel the way Tobin’s abs flex under her fingers as they kiss, and Christen can barely stand it, the way her body is screaming for more, for Tobin’s hands, Tobin’s mouth—

“Please…” she begs.

She knows it sounds needy, but she doesn’t care. She  _ is  _ needy. Her thighs are slick with her arousal; her fingers slick with  _ Tobin’s _ and she just really needs to be—

Tobin smirks, pulls back far enough to stroke her fingers through Christen’s curls. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, baby?”

It nearly makes her come.

“God, yes,” she chokes out. “Please, please…”

Tobin’s hand slides down her stomach. “With my fingers?”

Christen’s legs spread wider off their own accord. “Yes.”

She’s panting, all breath and desperation, and Tobin is too slow, too teasing, dragging her fingers lower and lower but not where Christen needs her—

“Or…” Tobin says. “Will you let me fuck you with a strap?”

Christen’s mind short-circuits.

“ _ What _ —” she chokes out. “You’ve got—you’ve brought—”

Tobin kisses her, slow and teasing, then whispers. “Want to make you feel good. Want to make you come so hard.”

_ This,  _ Christen thinks,  _ is outrageous. _

“Did I get the wrong impression?” Tobin is saying through the haze in her mind. “If you don’t feel comfortable with—”

“Fuck me,” Christen breathes out. “Please, yes. Get it. Fuck me.  _ Please. _ ”

There’s a moment where Tobin just looks at her, clearly trying to see whether she is really sure, but then she moves away from between Christen’s legs, reaching for the nightstand. She rummages through it before standing and pulling something out, her back to Christen.

The rush of cool air against her naked body is enough to make Christen’s head clear, if only for a moment.

She’s really going to do this.

She’s going to let a stranger—

“Turn over.”

Christen gasps.

Tobin has gotten completely undressed and is pulling one of the straps tighter around her bare hip. She slides her hand up and down the length of the purple toy, slicking it up with lube like this was the goddamn plan all along, and Christen—

She’s going to have a heart attack.

“Turn… over?” she stammers, and she knows that Tobin can tell she’s affected.

It makes a tiny smile curl around Tobin’s lips, something very real and genuine and  _ hot.  _ “Yes,” she says. “Turn over, Christen. Onto your stomach, babe.”

One of Tobin’s hands is on her hip, as Christen slides down to lie on her front, and then, Tobin is back between her legs, the hint of pressure between Christen’s legs enough to make her shudder.

“Are you wet enough?” Tobin says, and there’s a hint of something dominant to it; something that burns hot and wild under Christen’s skin, something that plays right into her desire.

She pushes her ass up, breathes out, “Check for yourself.”

Tobin’s hand moves from her hip to her ass. Christen can feel the toy pressing to the back of her thigh, and it’s painfully distracting, painfully arousing, until—

Tobin’s fingers slide through her and inside, and Christen spasms.

“Fuck _ —Tobin! _ ”

Tobin fucks her easily; a steady rhythm of fingers slipping in and out, until Christen feels so on edge that she can barely breathe. She can’t stop moaning. She can’t stop gasping. She’s got her face in the pillow and she’s going to come, she’s going to come  _ again,  _ before Tobin even uses the strap, before she—

The tip of the toy presses against her entrance.

“Do you want this?’ Tobin asks.

Christen squirms, tries to push back against the strap. “Yes…”

“Say it.”

“Want you.” Christen’s voice is fucked and breathless. “Want you inside me. Want you to fuck me. Tobin, want you—”

Tobin pushes inside and Christen’s voice cuts off in a cry.

“Fuck,” Tobin curses. “You look so good like this, feel so good…”

Fingers drag down Christen’s back, hooking on her hips, scratching lightly as Tobin rocks into her. Christen can’t stop the sounds coming from her throat—the pants, the whimpers, the moans.

“Please, please…” Christen cries and Tobin’s pace picks up in response.

Christen’s vision goes blurry, and Tobin pulls hard on her hips, drags her ass up until Christen is on her knees, moving back onto the toy, wet and slippery—

“C’mere,” Tobin breathes out, sliding her hand over Christen’s stomach, dragging it over her breast, her nipple, until she has no choice but the arch, and let herself be pulled against Tobin’s naked front completely.

“I love how you feel,” Tobin hums, fucking harder into her. “Are you going to come for me? All over me?”

Christen can’t speak anymore. She can only whimper and nod and grab hard onto Tobin’s hand as it makes its way between her legs, flicking over her clit, once, twice—

_ “Tobin! _ ”

Christen screams.

Her entire body spasms as she comes. The pleasure rips through her in waves that don’t ease up for even a moment, not with the way Tobin keeps fucking her through it. Christen’s knees give out and then she collapses, and even then, Tobin doesn’t really slow down, just keeps sliding in and out of her, whispering beautiful dirty things and stroking Christen’s back.

And then Tobin’s voice falters, and her hips stutter, and Christen thinks she might be coming, too—just from this, just from fucking Christen into the mattress.

It causes another wave of pleasure through her body.

After what feels like forever, Tobin finally slides out of her, falling down next to Christen onto the bed.

“Damn…”

Christen’s breathing has barely evened out, and then she laughs—the pure and utter exhilaration coursing through her body.

Her hand falls to Tobin’s cheek. “God, I love you so much.”

Tobin smiles at her, kisses her. “Love you too, baby. That was fucking incredible.”

Christen takes the biggest breath she’s taken all night. “You were driving me crazy in that bar, you know? That stupid cocky act—I can’t stand it when you do that.”

Tobin laughs, pulls her girlfriend closer. “Oh? I thought you were really into it. Almost got you to break scene at a few points.”

Christen pinches Tobin’s naked hip. “Did not.”

“Did, too.”

She pushes Tobin into the mattress and straddles her. “Can’t believe you brought the strap from home.”

Her hands are on Tobin’s stomach and she wiggles until the toy hits right against her clit.

Tobin’s eyes go wide. “Baby…”

Christen’s touch is light and teasing, running over Tobin’s abs, then down between their legs, sliding the pads of her fingers over Tobin’s clit.

Tobin gasps.

“How exactly…” Christen says. “… do you want me to get you off?” She licks her lips. “With my mouth, maybe?”

Tobin groans. “Christen…”

“Or…” Christen continues, grabbing the toy and sliding it against her own clit. “Do you want me to ride you? Slip right back into the scene?” She leans forward, kisses Tobin’s mouth. “Stranger in a bar ends up riding star soccer player Tobin Heath all fucking night…”

She rocks her hips forward and Tobin’s hips jump. “ _ Please _ .”

Christen smirks. “Oh, look who’s begging now…” She takes a breath, then whispers right against Tobin’s lips, “You know, if I’d known you were this good in bed, I would have ignored your stupid pick-up line and let you fuck me right against the bar.” 

It’s all the encouragement Tobin needs.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hope this wasn't too bad... Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
